With Holding

He asks me if I’d like for him to carry my books,

Though I clutch only a novel and a spiral notebook

And I laugh aloud because little does he know that I’m the girl

At school with a thick stack of books piled high in my arms

Pressed to my chest like body armor.  This boy doesn’t know

What I’ve carried. What I’ve held. This sweet-faced boy with his

 Touch like warm rain on my neck,

This sweet-faced boy who adorns me with words

Like “beautiful” when my face is bare,

What does he know of support?

I wonder.

You can tell a lot about a person from what’s in her arms:

Yesterday, the white-haired lady in the bookstore carried a book called

DREAM Kitchens at DREAMY Prices!

And he’s got his arms full of me.

I’ve got lavender oil spritzed through my hair;

He tells me I smell of cinnamon.

 

Reviews

[Shea Eugene]

Well done. I had to read it a couple of times to find the flow - it seems sporadic in focus, but I can see the design of it :)

Favorite line:
Yesterday, the white-haired lady in the bookstore carried a book

In fact, tomorrow I am going to the book store to just watch and try to read peoples dreams by the books they are holding.
Nice job!

[Aka_Kitsune]

i like this :) it i really good, great job on this poem.